


The Knife I Pressed Into My Skin

by Kiiyah



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Family Issues, Healing, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Oneshot, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 06:14:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10870794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiiyah/pseuds/Kiiyah
Summary: Sanghyuk saves Jaehwan from his worst enemy: himself.





	The Knife I Pressed Into My Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Based somewhat from experience.  
> It was edited only once, so I hope I got most of the mistakes. |>_<|/
> 
> I would say enjoy, but considering what this fic is about, I'll just let you decide.

Jaehwan flinched as he drew the blade across the inner bend of his wrist. It was almost comical, how his blood could so easily flow out of his wrist, yet his tears could not.

*Pitter, patter, pitter.* 

The blood hit the cold tile floor of the bathroom like rain upon thick glass. Jaehwan could hardly feel the blade as he ran it across his wrist in another smooth stroke. It was painful, yet not as much as he wanted it to be. 

He could almost hear the yelling in the other room, the furious shouts, furniture falling, glass breaking, the sound of the creaky front door slamming shut. It was hardly a dispute; his parents fought daily. Each day they would start off alright, but the next couple hours, chaos would descend, the aura darkening like a curtain around the house.

It hurt to see the his mother and father fight so much. They never used to be like this. So much, so long ago, they were passionate people. So full of ambition: life was good, for awhile, at least. Until his grades started dropping in high school.

The blood on his right wrist had already dried out quickly. Almost mechanically, he pulled out the first aid kit and got to work.

They never fought when Jaehwan was a child, when he was sweet and innocent, daring. When he hit his teenage years, things turned downhill almost hilariously fast. What was it? Could've it had been- no he wasn't even allowed to think that. His mother would never cheat. She couldn't. She loved Jaehwan too much. His father, too much.

Then why was the only time they paid any attention to him are when he gets his report card? The only time he'd ever received their praise was if high marks graced the columns on the card. The ONE time they'd ever smile.

He examined his wrist, checking the bandage to see if it fit snuggly. It did. He cleaned up his mess, stored the container back into the cabinet under the sink, and left the bathroom. It was quiet now. The lights downstairs was still on, but he disregarded it. He was sure that whoever it was, didn't want to be bothered.

 

***

His alarm sounded bright and early the day after, much to his dismay. It rumbled and rang, falling off his desk- crashing inevitably to the floor. Great.

It was a good thing it didn't break. There was no way he would be able to afford a new one, considering he doesn't have a job, and doesn't get allowance. Maybe it was about time that he looked for one.

 

The toaster pinged as the bread popped out from it's oven. There was a slight burnt edge, but it didn't really matter; Jaehwan was never the perfectionist type, so it didn't bother him. His mom, however, was, as so plainly indicated by the frown on her face. Her bipolar disorder was doing her in again, it seemed.

"So how was school?" She asked, taking a sip of her coffee. Probably black, as she couldn't stomach milk because of her lactose intolerance. Or it was one of those rare occasions she used non-dairy coffee creamer. Whatever it was, it was keeping her on edge.

"It was fine, I guess. I aced that Biology test I've been telling you about."

"Biology -" she trailed off, confusion clouding her gaze. Which was nothing new.

Jaehwan knew better than to ask about his dad when she was in a neutral mood, but somehow, today, he couldn't help himself.

"Oh, Mom? Where's Dad?"

She tensed at the mention of the man, than relaxed, her face so quickly changing from calm, to venomously angry, it was disarming.

"Your father is gone-" she gritted out. " And he won't be coming back today." His mother looked as though she was going to hit him, but his small squeak of terror brought her down from the rapid anger.

As a mother, there was a line to draw between discipline and punishment. Her anger warranted neither. Yet she didn't seem to care, and that's what scared him, as he backed away and scrambled up the stairs.

 

That was that. School wasn't much different than it usually was, as the academic types studied, the jocks played games, and the rich bullied. His school was like some type of stereotypical American high school flick; it was annoying.

Someone buzzed around the corner as he rounded it, crashing into him, his butt landing hard on the floor. He hissed, reaching around and rubbing the tender flesh--he was going to have a hard time sitting later.

"Oh, so sorry. I'm really sorry. Are you okay?" The boy asked, obviously concerned, offering his hand.

He ignored the hand and got back to his feet, brushing off his pants, the boy then handing him his dropped books.

"I'm alright, just don't let it happen again. Thank you, by the way."

The boy, with slightly chubby cheeks and roundish, rectangular glasses, smiled back at him, bowing."Oh, yes, I'm really sorry. I was just in a bit of a hurry."

He glanced for a second at his watch, and gave another apologetic look. "I have to go now." He was about to leave, but then he turned back. "I'm Sanghyuk, by the way."

Jaehwan nodded, waving him off. It was about time he got to class as well.

 

Lunch came sooner rather than later, promptly telling Jaehwan that he should probably hide; eating alone was always his thing. Despite his fanbase (his wildly handsome good looks did him in) he didn't care much for them. People who only see the physical traits of a person and fail to peel back a layer, don't really deserve time or attention, for that matter.

He collected his lunch quickly, and went outside. In the very corner of field, at the far end, was a huge tree. It's leaves, a dark, livid green, grew in lush bunches out from branches, providing one enough shade to enjoy a meal, or say, read a novel. 

"It's comfortable here-" he thought. "not having to hide from the judging eyes of students, or deal with jealous girls, and their overprotective boyfriends." He didn't ask for any of this-- this extra stress, the anxiety, the pain, no-, why would anybody in their right mind ask for such a thing?

Yet here he was, scars hidden under layers of clothes, and a fresh bandage cover the entirety of his right arm.

His eyes pricked with fresh tears.

In moment, he no longer felt hungry(or human), so he packed the food away and pulled out a different object. One that he was very familiar with.

The blade of a box cutter. 

A very smooth blade, clean, sharp, deadly. With a couple of deep cuts, or one, he could end his life, this suffering that seemed pointless in nature, though it also did not. Would anyone really miss him if he just took it all away? Would they cry over his death, or would he be just a column in some obituary, a short and sweet paragraph that held no content at all?

The blade hovered over his left wrist, the skin fresh and unmarked, just begging to be cut. He pressed the box cutter to skin, about to slice in, when a hand pulled his wrist, the one holding the blade, away.

"Please, don't." It was that boy again. Sanghyuk. This time his features were soften, a kind of empathy pouring from the depths of his eyes.

"You, why are you here?" Jaehwan mumbles, voice cracking. 

"I wanted to eat with you, but then I saw this-" he gestured to blade in the grass, "- and decided you needed a different kind of nourishment."

There was silence between the two after Sanghyuk finished the last syllable of his sentance. Jaehwan was shocked, yet warmed by the act of selflessness. 

"I-,I- I-, wha-, but-, umm-" then he was blubbering mess in Sanghyuk's arms. A jumbled stream of words came out, but he just sat there, solidly holding the older and rubbing his back.

His crying was frantic and achy, like he'd been holding it in for such a long time, but never let it out.

Sanghyuk just continued to be there for him. In fact, he always had been. If the older had been sane long enough to, he would have noticed as well.

Han Sanghyuk had been following him for a long time. It's had been simply a boyish intrest, but then it grew into something more. 

Jaehwan and Sanghyuk had actually met awhile back, but that was in middle school such a long ago. He was a small, lanky kid, following his sunbae's around like no tomorrow. Until he bumped into Jaehwan, joking with a friend as he strolled down the hall.

It was almost if the earth had slowed to a screeching halt as Jaehwan passed him. Of course the other paid him no mind, because he was a newbie, but the small slap of encouragement and inspiration Jaehwan gave him pretty much did the trick.

That was years ago. Now, just the husk of the man lied in his arms, sniffling and damaged, gone.

Sanghyuk was here to comfort him, just like Jaehwan did all those year's ago. The confidence he gained from Jaehwan's encouraging remarks, the support in his first years, it was all going to be repaid.

For all this, Sanghyuk wants to help mend the broken boy in his arms.

 

Sometimes, just a little push is all you need to get going.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Your Thorns I Pressed Into My Fingers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11907045) by [gotchick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotchick/pseuds/gotchick)




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